


What Charles Wants

by charlesxavierthetelepath



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles You Will Be Drunk, Charles-centric, Hatred, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Poor Charles, Post Beach Divorce, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4804448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesxavierthetelepath/pseuds/charlesxavierthetelepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles had always found it easy to get what he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Charles Wants

Charles had always found it easy to get what he wanted. Being offered a position at his chosen university, a companion for the night or tickets to a sold out show. It didn't matter what he wanted, he would get it. He didn't have to use his mutation. That made it all too easy and Charles like at least a hint of a challenge. 

Tonight though he wasn't interested in a degree or tickets. No tonight he wanted something much more simple. He wanted trouble. He wanted to be hurt. He wanted to be bloodied and sore because it would hopefully mean he might feel something. He had been feeling too numb lately and he wanted something familiar. He wanted to feel something, feel anything even if that meant a broken bone or two. 

He hadn't been on the serum long. A few short months. He had already upped the dose twice. He had missed walking and for the first time since he was eight years old, his mind was silent. It was wonderful and horrifying. He could walk around and not get those pity looks that he got when he was in the chair. As a telepath, Charles could hear what people were thinking. He had heard it all over the years. People wondering what happened and some assumed he had been injured in combat or car crash. Others thinking he was attractive and it was a waste that he probably couldn't fuck anyone if he was paralysed from the waist down. Others equated that he was in a chair therefore he must also be stupid. The serum not only put an end to feeling assaulted with words, it had given him back his legs. 

Hank had been wary when he had said he was going out for a few hours. He had even offered to come out with him but Charles had waved him off. Hank would have cringed if he had been here, watching as he drove into the worst area of town, much closer to New York City. He parked the car in a side alley wondering if it would even be here when he came back. Did he even care? It was just a chunk of metal and Charles had an overwhelming urge to throw anything away with even a trace of the substance

When Charles entered the bar, he felt most eyes turn to look at him. He ignored them all and made his way to the bar. He stood out here. It wasn't just his expensive clothes or his 'fuck you' swagger. He looked exactly what he was. Or at least what he had been once upon a time. A privileged rich boy who wouldn't know what real hardship was. There had been a time his life had been just one party after another. An endless parade of privilege and parties in fact. A never ending line of women and men in his bed while he walked in his Oxford degrees. The party was long over, even if the bank accounts were healthier then ever. *Honestly Charles. I don't know how you survived, living in such hardship* Eriks words assaulted him and he visibly winced before he ordered a scotch neat. He didn't want to waste space for ice. 

Erik. As hard as he tried not to think about the metal bender, there were just constant reminders of him everywhere. Everyday. Being in a bar reminded him of much happier times. The recruitment trip where they had slept together for the first time, realised they were in love, made promises of forever to each other. It had all been nothing but lies and smoke and mirrors. At least where Erik was concerned. All Charles had been to the metal bender was useful. Once he had reached his expiration date, the telepath could be left on a beach to bleed out, while his lover and sister abandoned him. 

If he hadn't had his powers, he could have easily believed Erik had never loved him. But he knew in his soul that that wasn't true. He had felt the very real love Erik had felt for him. The happiness, the contentment the metal bender had found in Charles arms. Somehow it made it all so much worse. Erik had loved him and left him anyway. 

It was all a moot point now anyway. Erik had sitting in jail for murdering Kennedy. Raven was God only knew where. He had tried to find her after Erik had been arrested but even using Cerebro had proved useless. Raven could shield her mind far too well. Of course she could, Charles had taught her how to shield him. All he had wanted was to just find her, bundle her into his arms and bring him home. If he was honest, it was what he wanted to do with Erik too. Just bring them back to Westchester and somehow make everything right again. But that was a child's dream, nothing was ever going to be right ever again. Raven was hiding, Erik would live out his days in jail and Charles was broken in every way a man could be broken. They made quite the trio. 

He finished his scotch in two gulps before ordering another one. He wasn't looking to pick up tonight. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone. The chair complicated things. Most people didn't want to fuck a cripple and physically it was a struggle. The serum made it better, easier but he wasn't looking for a companion. Not tonight. He could find someone to fuck in a dark alleyway if that's what he wanted. As long as they towered over him, had wide shoulders but slim hips. A flat stomach with washboard abs, an infectious grin that was all toothy and screamed predator. Beautiful stormy blue eyes that could look hazel or green in the light. Short light brown hair with a tinge of red in the sunlight. The ability to manipulate metal. Charles almost snorted. It had been years since Erik had left him and damn him straight to hell because his mind was still flooded with thoughts of him. It had only gotten worse since somehow they had managed to telepathically connect since Erik had been in prison. It seemed he didn't even need Cerebro for Erik to be able to reach out for him, despite their physical distance.

Several drinks later, he was well on his way to being drunk. This felt familiar. This reminded him of his childhood. His mother had spent most of the past five years of her life in at least a partial stupor. The pain of losing Charles father and then marrying an abusive second husband had proved too much. She became more and more distance, giving Kurt free rein to do as he pleased. Sometimes that was spend too much of the family money, sometimes it was to beat Charles or Cain to a bloodied pulp. Memories of Kurt shoving him against a wall, punching him anywhere that couldn't be seen ("Can't mess up that pretty boy face can we?" He would sneer) words thrown at him that somehow hurt more than the punches ("Filthy perverts like you like it rough, you should be thanking me." And "If you like being fucked up the ass so much, I should sell your ass to some of my friends. I'd make more than the Xavier fortune and you'd love every second of it, wouldn't you, you little faggot.") Charles knocked back another scotch. It was swill compared to the selection he had at home but at home he couldn't find what he was looking for. 

Once he was sufficiently drunk it didn't take long to get what he wanted. He stumbled to the men's bathroom, used the facilities before he asked the three men in there if they wanted to fuck him. It only took a few seconds before he was punched so hard in the face he was sent sprawling onto the cold filthy tiles. Charles just laughed, saying clearly they liked it rough like all perverts. That earned him a kick to the stomach from a particularly large man wearing a leather jacket and a neck tattoo. But it wasn't enough for Charles. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted pain and blood. He wanted to feel something. Anything. A few moans from him and an added "Fuck that's sexy." And suddenly Charles was being propelled through the bar and thrown to the ground in the side alley. The three men from the bathroom were joined by two more. Charles knew what was coming and just lay there, almost reveling in the wait of what was to come. 

A sharp kick to his side and punch to his face brought his attention back to the men he was surrounded by. He couldn't stop the whimper that escaped as it all became a blur of hands and feet, punches and kicks. Charles didn't try to block any of it, he just lay there and took it. Several times he was picked up by the lapels of his jacket only to be hit to the ground again and again. Blood and pain, a snap of a bone and Charles was screaming. Words thrown at him "Dirty little pervert." and "Filthy fucking faggot." Charles felt he was a teenager again. Kurt had been swapped for a group of strangers from a bar and the hallways of Westchester had been exchanged for a dark alleyway at 1am. But this was familiar. This was what he deserved. He deserved this, he deserved to be punished for everything he had ever done. Erik and Raven were gone, they had never even bothered to come and see if he were alive. Erik had broken every promise he had ever made to him. Raven had never returned even after Erik was sent to prison. No one loved him. No one had ever loved him. Why would they? He didn't deserve love. He deserved this. Pain and punishment. 

The world had blurred to nothing but shoes and hands and slurs thrown at him. He heard one of them say "Let's finish his fucker off." But then he heard sirens and running and suddenly he was alone. He was sprawled beside a dumpster, barely able to breath. Covered in blood, something was broken. He let out a choked laugh. The pain was excruciating. But he felt something. For the first time in a long time he felt something other than deep seated longing for Erik. It was glorious. 

Soon he had cops crouched down beside him "Sir, can you hear us? You're safe now." (Charles felt disappointment but didn't respond.) and then paramedics joined them. He didn't answer as they asked him questions. One found his wallet so then they called him Charles instead of Sir. They checked his vitals and soon he was being loaded onto a gurney. The medics or was it the police were asking if there someone they could call for him. "Erik. I just want Erik." He whispered in a broken sob, tears running down his face as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. All he wanted right now was his metal bender. Erik would look after him. Erik would take care of him. Erik would love him. He would tend to his wounds and keep him safe. Reality came crashing down because Erik would do none of this things. Erik wasn't going to keep him safe, from other people or himself. Erik had abandoned him. Erik had broken all his promises and left him and now Charles was alone. A whimper caught in his throat. If he focused on the physical pain it eased the agony of needing Erik and that had to be something. Didn't it? It was his final thought before the darkness descended

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend who gave me the prompt "bar fight". It turned out darker then I originally planned. It's my first X-Men story that I've posted here. Feedback makes me smile.


End file.
